


gold and honey

by dearly



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-03-06 06:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13405518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearly/pseuds/dearly
Summary: “Swinging open the door, he’s surprised to see Rey, smile beaming at him as if their initial encounter hadn’t phased her at all.” Or, Ben Solo gets a new neighbor.





	1. summer

**Author's Note:**

> You were my sunny day rain  
> You were the clouds in the sky  
> You were the darkest sky  
> But your lips spoke gold and honey  
> That's why I'm happy when it rains  
> -The Jesus and Mary Chain, [Happy When It Rains](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G5x1F9ohRa4)

_**-Summer-** _

 

 

A muffled thud of something heavy falling outside his door jolts him awake. He keeps his eyes shut and listens as two voices, a male and a female, pass by, the floorboards creaking as they make their way down the hall. 

Groaning, he rolls over on his side and presses his face into the pillow but after several minutes of lying still he knows it’s no use trying to fall back asleep. He rolls back over and rubs the sleep from his eyes. A thin beam of light shines through a crack in the shades and falls across his body in a diagonal line. He watches the dust float in and out of the narrow shaft of light—the gentle chaos of moving particles, the invisible made visible.

It takes as much a conscious effort to sit up as it does physical; he strains to find the will in the cloudiness of his mind. His whole body is stiff, like he’s been pressed into the mattress with a heavy weight. His arms hang like dead weights at each side of his body and he has to shake them to get the blood flowing through his system.

Pure exhaustion, mental and physical – that’s what he feels. If his body would let him, he’d sleep for the next three days and still probably not be fully recharged.

The one positive for the time being is that the headache seems to have subsided, only a trace of the dull throbbing lingers at the periphery.

There’s another crash in the hallway which is followed by a peal of female laughter. 

He plants his bare feet on the hardwood floor and forces himself into a standing position, hesitating for a minute to make sure his head isn’t going to start pounding again. When he safely determines that it is not, he gingerly makes his way out of his bedroom to the front door.

He cracks it open just in time to catch the tail end of the laughter and the same voice saying, “Finn, could you try and not destroy my furniture. These are priceless antiques you’re handling.”

“Yeah,” a deeper voice responds, “straight from the nineties. Whoever thought floral print was a good idea for a couch anyway.”

They must have entered the apartment at the end of the hall because he can’t make out any more of the conversation. He retreats back inside his own apartment and waits by the door.

It isn’t long before he hears the sound of light footsteps approaching and he whips the door open to make his move.

Stepping one foot into the hallway, he lands right in the path of a young woman who gasps in surprise.

“Oh. Hi,” she says, craning her neck up to meet his eyes. Her brown eyes are practically sparkling with amusement. She has a wide toothy smile which is almost as brilliant as the yellow of her tank top. The shirt is covered in streaks of dirt and is tucked into a pair of paint-splattered denim cut-off shorts. Her hair is done up in some kind of messy bun with a bandana tied around her head to keep it in place. A few tendrils of the brown hair have escaped their hold and stick to the sides of her face. She’s rosy-cheeked and covered in a sheen of sweat from exertion but it only adds to her overall look of youthful vivacity. If he could use only one word to describe her, it would be _bright_.

“I’m Rey, your new neighbor in 2F.” She briefly turns her head away to jerk a thumb toward the end of the hall before turning back to beam at him once again. 

He stares at her befuddled by this unexpected burst of energy and friendliness. It’s caught him so off guard that he forgets for a moment what he’s even doing.

“I—” He swallows, staring at her, and then remembers. “Could you just keep it down?”

She blinks and the smile slowly vanishes. He regrets his choice of tone immediately, but it’s too late, the damage is done.

“Of course, sorry! We’ll try to be more quiet.”

He slips back inside his door before she can say anything else but can’t stop himself from taking a quick look as he shuts it. She’s watching him inquisitively, but upon making eye contact quickly turns and heads for the stairs.

He leans his back against the closed door, gritting his teeth as the all too familiar feeling of shame and regret sinks in.

A few minutes later, he hears Rey’s friend ask who she was talking to. She shushes him as they walk past his door and he doesn’t hear her response.

“Miserable asshole,” he mutters to himself as he sinks to the floor.

This emptiness swallowing him from the inside out - he deserves it.

He deserves all of it.

 

 

 

 

 

A week passes and he neither sees nor hears any more evidence of his new neighbor. If it weren’t for the new label (Smith) on the mailbox for 2F, he might have believed that he’d dreamt her up in his haze.

After a couple days spent in his apartment recovering with the shades drawn, he grabs his laptop and finally ventures out to catch up on work at the corner diner.

It’s both the blessing and curse of New York to feel invisible in the crowd. For the moment, he relishes in the anonymity, in the ability to occupy the corner booth to edit a backlog of documents and down cups of coffee without any disturbances.

When he feels satisfied with the progress he’s made, he buys an extra sandwich and, instead of heading directly home, walks a few extra blocks to the local park. One of his therapists had always stressed the idea of balance—whether it be work, school, or relationships. He’d been trying to keep this in mind as he was getting out in the world again, a little at a time.

The next Saturday morning as he is pouring a bowl of cereal, there’s a knock at his door. 

As someone with few visitors and even fewer friends, it catches him off guard.

Swinging open the door, he’s surprised to see Rey, smile beaming at him as if their initial encounter hadn’t phased her at all. She holds out an Amazon box to him.

“Hi! This was down in the lobby and I was on my way up so I thought I’d drop it off. I don’t know if people really swipe packages, but I figured it would at least save you the trip.”

He takes the box from her. “Um, thanks. That’s really nice of you.”

“Ben, right? Sorry, I don’t mean to be nosy, I just saw it on the label when I was looking for the apartment number.”

“Ben Solo.” He holds out his hand.

She shakes it with a firm grip. “Rey Smith.”

He runs his free hand through his hair. “Listen, I want to apologize for the other day. That was really rude of me.”

She waves him off before he’s even finished speaking. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Do you, um, I mean - would you want to come inside for a second? I’ve got some coffee brewing.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, probably wondering who the hell she was speaking to—surely not the same guy from a week ago. “Sure. Sounds great.”

He sets the box on the floor and holds the door open for her, watching her as she steps inside and looks around the sparsely decorated space.

“Wow, you’ve got great light in here.” He’s grateful she doesn’t comment on his minimalistic tendencies as people usually did.

“Except in the mornings when you want to sleep in,” he says heading to the kitchen to check on the coffee. He pours two full mugs and walks back into the living room.

“Is black okay? Sorry I don’t have cream or anything.”

“Black’s fine, thanks,” she says, accepting the mug from him.

He gestures for her to have a seat on the couch and she does. He sits in the stiff armchair on the other side of the coffee table.

“It’s no excuse, but I get these migraines occasionally and they leave me pretty wiped out. That day you were moving in I was just getting over one, hence my rudeness.” He takes a sip of coffee. “I mean not that I’m a naturally friendly person anyways, but I’ve worked on myself enough over the years to stop from being a complete dick.”

The corners of her mouth turn upward at the last bit and she shakes her head. “Seriously don’t worry about it. I understand.” Her eyes scan him and he feels suddenly exposed under her direct gaze. “I’m sorry about the migraines.”

“ _Sorry_?” he repeats, confused.

“Yeah, I mean that you have to deal with that. One of my foster mothers had migraines a lot and I know the pain that she used to go through every time she’d get one.”

Her eyes turn downward to her lap and she picks a piece of lint off her running shorts.

“Oh. Yeah, it sucks.”

While she’s focused elsewhere, he studies her. She’s wearing work-out clothes, a neon pink sports bra pokes from under the strap of a black tank top, but she’s not sweaty enough to have come directly from the gym or out jogging in this heat. He looks over to the door and sees that she’d set down a plastic bag advertising the nearby hardware store.

She follows his eyes. “IKEA cheated me out of a few screws so I had to find an alternative,” she sighs. “Luckily I’m pretty handy when it comes to putting stuff together and I think I found a way to make it work.”

He nods. “You all moved in yet?”

“Just about. I’ve got a few more boxes to unpack, but it’s the good stuff—books and clothes mostly.”

They sit in silence, finishing their coffee. It’s strange to have someone in his apartment, but it doesn’t feel intrusive or uncomfortable like he might have expected.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” he asks, having been unable to determine her accent since they’d first met.

“Nope. I just moved here from Arizona but I moved all over the Southwest growing up. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this humidity. I’m a desert girl through and through. Give me dry heat any day.”

“So, what brings you to New York?”

She shrugs and her eyes brighten with a mischievous glint. “The adventure, the excitement - I don’t know I didn’t really think about it much. I just decided one day to do it, to move, and I packed up my Falcon and drove here. It barely made it the poor thing—I had to sell her for scrap in the end—but—” she waves her arms jubilantly, “ta-da. New York here I am.

“My friend Finn had already moved out here a few years before, so I knew I wouldn’t be completely alone, but other than him I didn’t really know anyone or have any kind of plan. I lived with him and his boyfriend Poe for a couple weeks while I looked for a job.”

“Did you find something?”

She nods. “Secretary in admissions at the NYU engineering school.”

He flinches ever so slightly at the name of the school. “Oh, well done. Those jobs aren’t easy to get.”

“I know. I couldn’t believe it when I got that phone call. I also got a weekend waitressing job at the little Italian place around the corner.”

“Marco’s, you mean? I’ve walked by that place a million times but haven’t been.”

“Well, you should stop by tonight. I work most Saturday nights. Maybe I can sneak you some free garlic bread.”

She winks and it startles him how anyone could be this kind to a virtual stranger, neighbors or not.

“Yeah, okay. Maybe I will.”

The smile brightens. “Great! I’ll keep an eye out then. It’ll be nice to see a familiar face.” He doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Well,” she says rising to her feet, “I better go. This furniture isn’t going to fix itself.”

She hands him the empty mug and heads towards the door. “Thanks for the coffee. _Ben_.”

On her lips, it sounds like a shared secret - his name, his real name. He was still getting used to hearing it again. “Sure, anytime.”

When she’s gone, he carries the empty mugs to the sink and collapses onto a stool. The bowl of cereal still sits on the counter, but he doesn’t feel hungry anymore.

What he does feel at the moment is that, just _ever-so-slightly_ , his entire world has shifted.

 

 

 

 


	2. fall

_**-Fall-** _

 

 

 

 

The garlic-scented air envelops him in a comforting warmth as he swings open the heavy door of the restaurant and walks inside the small alcove.

The tiny, white-haired woman standing at the hostess desk gives him a sly smile and pokes her head into the dining room.

“Rey, _cara mia_ , your Ben is here,” she calls out in her thick accent a little louder than necessary.

Maria, or _Nonna_ as everyone called her, was the feisty Luciano family matriarch who had taken over running of the restaurant since her husband’s death nearly 30 years earlier. Even nearing eighty years old, she still insisted on running the place herself.

And for reasons he couldn’t quite determine, she seemed to have taken a liking towards Ben, never resisting an opportunity to tease him or stuff him with food, as he supposed his own grandmother might have done – if he’d been able to meet her.

Luckily, he’s arrived late so there’s only a few people left in the restaurant to hear her and they appear too engrossed in their glasses of wine to notice.

She leads him to a small table on the empty side of the restaurant and deposits a menu on the table.

“Anything you want, _caro,_ no charge.”

Since he’d started coming on a regular basis, she’d always insisted that he eat on the house. When he’d tried to argue the first time, she’d replied that Rey’s friends didn’t have to pay. Clearly Rey had made her mark on the place.

It didn’t stop him from always leaving a wad of cash on the table upon leaving, however. The guilt complex that he was still working through made accepting any kind of gift difficult.

Looking around, he takes in the now familiar surroundings—the tables decorated in simple white tablecloths and flickering tea lights, the large collection of black and white family photos lining the oak-paneled walls, the clinking of porcelain dishes and laughter streaming in from the kitchen. He can almost breathe in the history of this family, the generations of hard work and dedication that have led them here. It’s comforting to him to know that it’s possible, to see a family that’s battled the odds and has made a success of it.

He’s glancing over the menu when her voice sounds behind him.

“Hey you!” she says walking around to stand at his side and places a basket of bread in front of him. “I thought I heard my name.”

She looks over to Nonna and smiles, her face glowing in the candlelight.

He never could figure out how she could stay so upbeat after a long waitressing shift, not to mention look so effortlessly charming while doing so.

“How’s your article coming along?”

It takes a moment to force his mind away from considering the pleasing sight of her and formulate an answer to her question.

On top of his normal copyediting gigs, he taken on more freelance writing in the recent weeks. He’d made contact with a former editor who was now at the Times and his current assignment was an article on new advancements made in prosthetic limb technology. It would be his highest profile byline yet and frankly, he was more than a little nervous at the prospect.

“It’s almost finished. I had a phone interview today with one of the scientists at the lab I’m profiling and then I’m taking a photographer with me later this week when I do a follow-up visit. If all goes well, it should be in the paper next weekend.”

“Wow, the weekend edition - that’s great, Ben! I can’t wait to read it. I’m going to buy out the newsstand when it comes out.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “And do exactly what with them?”

She taps her pen against her chin, as if in deep thought. “Hmm, wallpaper my bathroom?”

He laughs at that, a low rumble from deep in his chest.

When he glances up at her again, she’s studying him with warm, gentle eyes.

“I like seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Easy-going, happy.” She shrugs. “You have a really nice laugh. It’s just nice to hear it.” The rosy color in her cheeks darkens a shade.

“So,” she says opening up her notepad, “what can I get for the famous journalist?”

He considers for a minute, then shuts the menu and hands it to her. “Surprise me.”

She rolls her eyes. “You always say that, Ben.”

“I’m not picky.”

She returns with a bowl of mushroom risotto and an extra basket of warm bread, which he devours promptly as if starved. Once the other diners have paid and left, she sits down across from him and they swap stories from their day.

She tells him about her new friend Rose, one of the advisors in the engineering department, and their plans to go see a Broadway show the next day with Rose’s sister who was on military deployment.

He tells her about visiting MOMA and then almost getting vomited on by a toddler on the subway ride home.

He wonders what it would be like to do this every night, to eat dinner and share a life with someone. The thought of going home to his empty apartment once gave him a sense of safety. Now it feels lacking.

When Rey joins the rest of the staff to help with the clean-up, he waves a farewell to Nonna and waits on a bench outside.

She emerges twenty minutes later wearing a red peacoat and a sly expression on her face.

“What is it?” he asks, suspicious.

From behind her back, she whips out a plastic take-out container in one hand and two forks in the other.

“Dessert! I beat Becky in Rock, Paper, Scissors for the last piece. Want some?”

The tiramisu is rich and delicious and easily the best thing he’s tasted in months. They take their time walking home, passing it back and forth and savoring each bite.

When they’re standing in front of their building, Rey stops abruptly as he tosses the container in the recycling bin.

“Let’s go somewhere. I’m not really tired yet.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and checks the time. “It’s only 10:30. What can you do at 10:30 on a Saturday night in Brooklyn?”

His mind goes blank. “I’m really not the person to ask. I never go out.”

She sighs. “Okay, but if you _did_ where would you go? What do other people do here?”

He strains for an answer. “Um, I guess most people go to bars and stuff,” he says finally and then adds with a quick glance at her, “but I don’t drink.”

She must catch some meaning in his eyes because she simply responds in a soft voice, “I see.”

A moment passes and Ben wracks his brain to fill the silence.

“Oh, I know. There’s a theater a couple blocks from here, _The_ _Starlight_. They show old movies late on the weekends.” He pulls out his phone and does a quick search. “They’re showing _It Came From Outer Space_ at 10:50. How about it? You in?”

Rey grins. “I’m in.”

As they walk to the theater, Rey links her arm through Ben’s, catching him by surprise.

“You New Yorkers,” she says, shaking her head. “Especially _you_ with your long legs. I figured if I’m attached to you maybe I have a better chance of keeping up.”

“Oh sorry,” he says, forcing himself to slow down. “I didn’t even realize. I guess I’m just used to being on my own.”

“Well, you’re not anymore.”

But even though he slows his pace, she doesn’t remove her arm from his. With each step, he finds himself becoming hyper-focused on the pressure of her arm against his and her presence beside him. He’s grateful when she picks up the conversation again.

“So, I’m having a party this Friday night. I wanted to throw one right after I moved in, you know like a housewarming thing, but then I got busy with work and settling in. Anyways, you should totally come—if you’re not already busy, I mean. Finn and Poe are going to be there and Rose and some other people from work. I’m inviting other people in the building too. It’s super casual, pot-luck style, but don’t worry about bringing anything unless you really want to. There’ll be plenty of food with what I’m already making.”

He tells her he’ll be there and she does a sort of skip and hop that makes him laugh – so naturally she does it again.

When they’re waiting to cross at the next intersection, Rey looks up at him, her face serious in the flashing light of the street signal.

“Ben, when you said you don’t drink…” She pauses. She’s clearly trying to be delicate with her wording and he interjects to save her the trouble.

“I’ve had some issues in the past.” _To put it mildly_ , he adds to himself. “I go to AA once every couple weeks. I’m better now, much better. But, well—”

The light turns green.

She waits until they’re halfway down the block before she speaks again. “Thanks for telling me. I mean it’s none of my business. I just—I don’t want to put you in a situation where you feel uncomfortable.”

“It’s not really a social thing for me. It’s more of a self-destructive habit from my past.”

“Okay, but Ben—you can always tell me if there’s anything I can do, or stop doing. You can talk to me anytime.”

It’s a simple enough statement, an offer of friendship, but the impact hits him square in the chest. Rather than trying to find the words he’s feeling, he mumbles a thank you and stuffs his hands into his jeans pockets.

When they reach the theater, Ben buys the tickets, while Rey, with her seemingly bottomless appetite, insists on buying the popcorn and soda.

Ben is no movie buff and he can’t decide whether he should be laughing at the 1950s idea of sci-fi or appreciating it for its historical significance as one of the earliest 3D movies in history.

He discovers that it doesn’t matter because he gets enough enjoyment hearing Rey’s reactions to the film, all the laughs and gasps right on cue.

Halfway through, likely when her sugar crash hits, she leans her head against his shoulder and, judging from her steady breathing, is asleep within minutes.

The rest of the movie is a black and white blur after that.

When the credits roll and people start to filter out, he gently nudges her arm, careful not to jar her awake.

“Oh, shit,” she says, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. God, I didn’t drool on you, did I?” She turns to study his t-shirt with look of horror that he can’t help but crack a smile at.

“No, I think you’re good.”

As they make their way out of the theater, Ben realizes as Rey stumbles behind him that she’s still practically half-asleep and in no shape to make the walk home.

When they reach the curb, he holds up an arm to signal a cab. She attempts to argue, but when the yellow car pulls up she gets inside without further complaint.

It’s rare for him to splurge on a cab, but with Rey nodding off in the seat beside him, he knows it’s the right call.

He pays the driver and helps Rey out of the car. She’s mumbling something about aliens and the time she visited Roswell, New Mexico but when they reach the stairs, she stops and groans.

“Why am I so tired all of a sudden?” she asks, taking the stairs one step at a time. “I was fine before.”

“Maybe because you were on your feet all day and then had a ton of sugar,” he says. “Here, let me make it easier—”

In one fluid motion, he wraps one arm around her back and one under her knees and sweeps her off her feet.

He makes it up the two flights of stairs before she can even react, but waits until they’re outside her door to set her down.

“I, um, thanks.” Her arms are still around his neck and it’s the first time he’s seen her at a loss for words since the day they’d met.

Her eyes are heavy-lidded, whether from drowsiness or something else he can’t quite determine, but when she runs a finger along the scar on his cheek he shivers.

If he told her everything right then and there, would she shut that door in his face for good, would she still want to touch the face of a monster?

“Goodnight, Ben.” Her eyes search him, but don’t find any answers.

Not tonight.

 

 

 

 

 

Though Rey had made it clear that he didn’t have to bring anything, he doesn’t want to show up to her party empty handed. Remembering her love of Mexican food, he decides to whip up a quick salsa. He’s not unskilled in the kitchen, but normally he chooses convenience over freshness, preferring to spend his time on his work or other matters. Today chopping the tomatoes and onions fills him a sense of purpose. He adds a jalapeno and tastes. The heat burns at the back of his tongue. It’s enough for him but knowing Rey’s spice tolerance is higher, he chops up an extra pepper.

With the Pyrex dish and bag of tortilla chips in hand, he exits his apartment. The party’s already in full swing with people lingering in the hall and music floating through the open doorway.

He’s not really sure what Rey’s friends are like, except Finn who he’d met briefly a week after Rey had moved in. He was a friendly, outgoing guy, though he’d made no attempt to hide his suspicion of Ben, which likely stemmed from what he’d been told by Rey about their first meeting. Finn was protective of his friend, newly moved to the big city, and frankly, he had every right to be.

Ben steps around a trio of people gathered by the door and into the apartment. Immediately he’s grateful that it’s a casual affair and his usual outfit of a black t-shirt and dark jeans blend in easily.

It’s crowded enough that he has to fight back a brief feeling of panic. He looks around for Rey and finally sees her coming out of the kitchen with a cheeseboard and a tray of fruit.

“Ben!” She squeezes the trays on the already crowded dining room table before walking over to him. “I’m so glad you’re here – and you brought food! Come here, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Before he can even speak, she grabs him by the wrist and after stopping to deposit his additions to the food table, leads him to the kitchen.

Finn is grabbing some sodas out of the fridge and nods at Ben.

“Hey, man.”

A curly, dark-haired man is pulling a tray of cheesy bread out of the oven and Rey taps him on the shoulder.

“Ben, this is Poe Dameron, Finn’s boyfriend.” Poe sets the tray on top of the burners before flashing Ben a toothy, million-dollar smile.

“Poe, this is my neighbor, Ben.”

Poe removes his oven mitts and extends a hand to Ben. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m glad we’re finally getting to meet.”

Ben shakes his hand. “Yeah, same. You’re an actor, right? I guess that keeps you pretty busy.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Finn says, holding out a Coke to Ben. Ben accepts the drink. “If this guy isn’t at rehearsals, he’s at some costume fitting or charity gig or jetting off to LA. Sometimes I forget what he looks like.”

Poe wraps an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Don’t listen to him, he exaggerates. Though, I guess I do keep busy. I prefer it that way. I’ve never been one for sitting at home. Relaxing, sitting still—it’s like the opposite of calming for me.”

Rey laughs. “Well, you and I are _way_ different there. If I could not leave the house for like a week and just hole up in my apartment and order take-out, I would be in heaven.”

With a squeeze of Ben’s arm, Rey excuses herself to greet the other guests. Finn and Poe stare at him curiously and he ignores it by popping the tab of the can open.

He ends up spending nearly a half hour talking with the two men. Poe was a stage actor, but he’d recently gotten a small role on a new network lawyer drama that was in the middle of filming its first season. He was extremely charismatic and Ben could picture him on stage commanding an audience.

Finn also seemed to warm up to Ben the longer they talked and before the end of the evening he’d even started including Ben in their inside jokes. Ben could see why he and Rey were so close.

He also met Rose and her sister Paige and some of the other people in the building that he’d only previously said hello to in passing.

As hostess, Rey checks in with him occasionally while making the rounds, but he mostly spends the party eating platefuls of food and making small talk with the people that initiate it.

At some point, someone turns the music up - a loud techno-pop song - and the room erupts in spontaneous dancing, if one could even call it dancing. He watches, amused, from the sidelines at the various attempts of moving with the music.

And when he’s wondering how they’re managing to do it sober, it hits him – what it was about this party that was missing.

It isn’t until later, when he’s helping with the clean-up that he gets a chance to ask her.

“Rey?”

She’s busy covering dishes of leftovers with plastic wrap and trying to fit them in her fridge. “Yeah?”

“I, um, well, I noticed that you didn’t have any alcohol.” His voice trails off. He opens his mouth to continue then shuts it quickly.

She stuffs the last container in the fridge, then shuts the door and spins around, leaning her back against it.

“Yes, that’s true.” She reaches up to pull out the band that is holding her ponytail, and runs a hand through her hair as it falls loose to her shoulders. “I asked everybody not to bring any.”

“That’s—” He stops, his throat constricting, and swallows. “You didn’t have to do that. I mean—it doesn’t bother me really, but…shit, no, what I mean is…thanks.” _God, he’s really fucking this up._

She shrugs. “It wasn’t a big deal either way. Nobody complained and I think everyone had a good time, so.” She shrugs again. “Plus, I didn’t have to worry about people throwing up, which is a win.”

He takes a step towards her. “Rey, thank you. I mean it. I’m not used to having somebody looking out for me.

“I just don’t want you worrying about me or anything. Like I’ve told you before, I was really messed up a few years ago, but I’ve made a lot of progress since. To be a total cliché—I’m in a much better place now.” He pauses, and wills himself to say the words he’s been wanting to say. “And having you in my life has made it that much better. I sometimes wonder what I did to deserve you moving into this building.”

She cocks her head and gives one of her smiles that makes his heart beat rapidly. “Ben Solo, you are a secret sweetheart, you know that?”

He coughs out a laugh. “I’m really not. Ask anyone.”

“Hm.” She steps toward him, eyes squinted and mouth pursed. “I beg to differ.”

Ben doesn’t get to respond because the last few party-goers want to say their goodbyes and he slips out the door while she’s occupied.

He lies awake into the early hours of the morning thinking about those lips so close to his, that look of stubborn determination in her eyes like she was offering up a challenge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The slight chill in the air turns frigid by late October. He’s glad he’s already pulled out his heavier sweaters because walking down 5th Avenue with the wind whipping around, it’s downright bone-chilling. Rey, who’s walking alongside him, had been even smarter by bringing along a hat and mittens.

But even with the extra layers, she still looks uncomfortable with her jaw clenched, and the fact that she’s not even trying to carry on a conversation means he knows she’s feeling the cold.

“Are you sure you’re alright? We could stop in this Starbucks for a minute and warm up,” he offers.

“No, no, it’s fine. I want to fit in as much as we can today so let’s keep going.” She sighs but it turns into a shiver. “I’ll get used to the cold eventually.” A beat. “I hope.”

He tries not to be amused at the sight of her red nose and flushed cheeks. With her hair in braids and the array of multi-colored outerwear contrasting with the greyness of the buildings around them, she looks like a character in a children’s picture book.

Rey had a rare day off from both her jobs and after complaining about not having seen much of the city, she’d decided to fit as much sightseeing into one day as possible and had asked Ben, the native New Yorker, to join her.

Though traipsing around crowded tourist locations wasn’t his ideal way to spend his time, he’d agreed instantly.

It was only mid-morning and they’d already crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, been through Penn Station, gone up in the Empire State Building, and now were on their way to the main branch of the public library.

It’s obvious that this destination is really what Rey has been most excited for.

When it comes into view, she turns almost giddy. “I swear, Ben, I’ve envisioned this since I was a little girl. I can’t believe it’s taken me until now to get here.”

“Let me guess, since you first watched Ghostbusters?”

“Yeah, you know now that you mention it that may have been the start. I really wanted to believe that there were ghosts in libraries.”

He waits behind her while she snaps a few photos on her phone and follows her inside where they wander the stacks and linger in the famous Rose reading room.

Afterwards they find a Greek restaurant that Poe had recommended and over gyros Rey shares more about her past.

“Now it’s my turn to sound like a sad cliché, but growing up I read a lot as an escape and hung out in libraries whenever I could. There was a safety there when the rest of my life was in chaos.”

She takes a sip of tea. “I was abandoned outside of a Santa Fe hospital when I was two days old—in a cardboard box, with only a blanket stitched with my name, _Rey_. If it was even meant to be my name, who knows. I didn’t even have a last name. The doctors gave me my last name—Smith, the most anonymous name ever.

“I was shuffled from one foster family to another, always hoping that one day my birth parents would change their minds and come looking for me. Eventually that dream just turned into hoping that someone would adopt me. I moved around so much I lost track of how many different schools I attended by fifth grade. That was about the time I met Finn, when I moved to a tiny town called Jakku. He was the only other foster kid in school and it was an instant bond. We never lost touch even when I moved again the next year.”

She turns her head to look out the window, watching the people streaming by with a faraway look in her eyes.

Ben reaches across the table and places his hand on top of hers. She blinks twice and looks down at his hand with a tear clinging to the corner of her eye. Turning her palm upward, she presses her fingers into his palm. He squeezes back and strokes his thumb against her wrist.

When they are walking out of the restaurant back into the busy throng, Rey reaches for his hand again. Her mittens stay in her pockets. He feels a new kind of energy flow through him while walking the streets of the city holding her hand.

It’s after ten when they make it back to the apartment that night, exhausted, windburn and chilled to the bone.

They reach Ben’s door first, and as he spins around to say goodnight, Rey reaches for the collar of his coat, pulling him down to her level. His back collides with the door as her lips find his. The kiss is assertive at first, then eases to a slow, gentle pace. Their lips cold from the outdoors, quickly warm with the friction. Her mouth is soft, eager, though he detects a slight hesitance. Her hands find the back of his neck then drift to his hair where her fingers comb through the wavy strands.

Just as his brain starts to make sense of what is happening, she pulls back. Brown eyes search his, flicking down to his lips and back. She’s unsure, as if waiting for a signal. He gives her his answer by wrapping his hands around her waist and pressing his lips to hers again. This kiss is more urgent, more wanting. Mouths parted, their hands roam, skin desiring skin - a difficulty with their layers of clothing. He compromises by placing his hands on either side of her face and drawing her even closer. She sighs in pleasure against his mouth and he responds in kind. When they at last part, they’re both breathless.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” she says in a hushed voice.

“I’m glad you did.”

“Thank you for today – for coming along and listening and just being there for me.”

“It was my pleasure.”

She lingers, wavering back and forth on her heels before she backs away slowly, letting their clasped hands hang between them until they break apart.

“I have to get up early tomorrow so I’ll say goodnight for now, _but_ …” She smiles, the blown pupils of her eyes finishing the sentence for her. “This isn’t over, Ben Solo.”

He smirks back at her. “I’ll be waiting.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments, especially for a newbie to this fandom like me. I really appreciate it!!
> 
> I hope this longer chapter makes up for my slowness. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


	3. winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of drug use (nothing explicit).

 

**_-Winter-_ **

 

 

 

For years, sleep had been a luxury. In lonely nights, it came in fits and starts without rhyme or reason. Even when his tired, aching body yearned for it most, he was often left staring at his ceiling into the early hours. When he did sleep, he would cling onto every second, half the day if it allowed - anything to avoid dealing with the dread that each new day seemed to bring.

But that dread, that fear had faded. Sleep no longer felt like a battle. He’d found a routine of work and leisure and it had simply become a natural end to his day and a restart for the next. Now he wakes with the early morning light with a renewed vigor and sense of hopefulness.

Stretching his arms over his head, he breathes in deeply and rolls lazily to his side.

The person lying next him as he’s discovered, however, is not as keen on waking as early as he.

Rey’s facing the wall and has commandeered the majority of the comforter so that all he can see is her brown hair poking through the opening and fanned across the pillow.

Amused, he watches the rise and fall of her breathing for a moment before sneaking a hand under the covers and wrapping it around her waist. He scoots his body closer until he’s pressed flushed against her and kisses a spot on her shoulder where the t-shirt of his that she’s wearing has slipped off.

She murmurs something unintelligible and pulls his arm tighter around her. When she makes no motion to get up, he kisses the same spot again and then kisses a trail up her neck to the spot behind her ear where he knows she’s most sensitive.

Normally when she stays over, he lets her sleep while he starts the coffee, but today he has other plans.

She stirs awake and draws her shoulder to her ear with a throaty laugh. “Ben, you devil.”

Smiling against her neck, he keeps kissing the soft skin until she rolls over and pins him on his back. “That’s how you want to play then?” she says as she leans down to kiss the curve of his throat.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to go get breakfast,” he says, swallowing, “but this works too.”

She sits up suddenly and rolls off of him. “Breakfast? You should’ve said sooner. I’m starved.”

“Hey,” he groans, feeling the absence of her weight atop him. He reaches out a hand to her. “There’s no rush.”

She narrows her eyes with a grin and lays back down beside him. He wraps his arm around her and kisses her forehead.

She buries her face into his chest and sighs. “You’re right. I could just stay here all day.”

“You _could_ ,” he says drawing the word out in a hopeful suggestion.

“Ugh, I wish.” She turns around to look at the alarm clock and settles her head back against his chest. “I have about an hour and a half until I have to get ready for work. Unless we go out. And now that you’ve brought it up I’m dying for some pancakes.”

“Bacon, too?” he says, brushing a stand of hair from her face. “Hashbrowns? French toast?”

She moans and pulls her head back to look at him. “You seriously know how to turn a girl on.”

“Apparently, all it takes is suggestion of fried foods, or so I’ve learned.”

“You’ve learned well,” she says, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

 

 

 

 

As he’s pulling on a pair of jeans, there’s a knock on the front door.

He freezes and sees Rey cock her head in question as she unwraps the towel from her head and pats her hair dry.

After another knock, louder this time, he knows he can’t ignore it. “I’ll go see who it is. You stay in here.”

Rey’s forehead wrinkles for a brief moment but she nods and begins to make the bed.

Pulling on a clean t-shirt, he closes the bedroom behind him and heads to the front door feeling annoyed by the interruption.

“Who is it?” he calls out before his hand reaches for the knob, hoping that perhaps he could shoo the person away without having to interact.

“Who do you think, arsehole?” a snippy voice responds.

He stops cold. The blood drains from his head as the recognition sinks in and he has to reach a hand to the wall to regain his balance.

No.

_No. No. This couldn’t be happening. Not now._

Panic rising, he turns to look at the closed bedroom door and feels the room spin.

“Are you going to open up or am I going to have to break down this bloody door?” the voice asks impatiently.

It would be futile to ignore him; the man was not one to give up easily.

Ben swallows, steadies himself, then opens the door a crack.

Through the opening, he sees the red-haired man’s face twist into a devilish grin. “Hello, Kylo.”

The bile rises in his throat. Hux, _the bastard_. Just the sight of him makes Ben sick to his stomach. He wants to punch him. He wants to grab him by the throat and slam him into the wall. He wants to beat him as he lists every shitty thing this man had brought into his life.

Instead, Ben just stares back, nostrils flaring.

Hux feigns offense. “What you’re not going to invite me in for tea?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing here, but we’re done. Get out of my apartment.” He tries to keep his voice low and steady, but there’s an obvious edge of nerves that he knows Hux can easily pick up.

He tries to slam the door shut, but Hux is too quick and wedges a foot in the gap. “Or what? You’re gonna call the cops?” Hux snickers and Ben’s heart sinks because he knows he’s right. That option doesn’t exist.

In Ben’s moment of hesitation, Hux pushes on the door, shoving Ben so that he stumbles backwards, and walks into the apartment with an annoying swagger.

He surveys the room and raises his eyebrows as Ben struggles for balance. “Hmm, better than I was expecting from the outside. Keeping a low profile, I suppose? Makes sense. Still, not like the places from back in the day, eh?”

While Ben remains frozen willing himself not to look at the bedroom door, Hux wanders around the living room, lifting objects off tables and tossing them aside with distain. He sighs as if bored with his findings and shakes his head at Ben. Ben says a silent prayer to whatever god may be listening as Hux walks by the bedroom door and another of gratitude when he instead turns for the kitchen. Plucking an apple from a bowl on the counter, Hux rubs it on his jacket and takes a loud bite, grinning at Ben as the juice dribbles at the corner of his mouth.

“So my friend, what have you been up to the last few years? I have to say I’m impressed. From the looks of it you’ve got yourself on the straight and narrow,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “Or you’re just good at faking it.”

“And you look like shit,” Ben says under his breath. Hux’s pale skin has taken on an almost greyish hue since that last time he’d seen him. The shadows under his eyes are several shades darker, perhaps highlighted by the sunkenness of his cheeks. It’s not hard to deduce that Hux is not a well man.

Hux glares for a moment before resuming his chewing.

Ben takes a few deep breaths to calm himself and then lowering his voice, speaks with calculated measure. “As I’ve already said, our business is done. I don’t know what you want or why you’re here and frankly, I don’t give a shit. I have nothing to say to you anymore.”

Hux takes a few more bites of the apple as he studies Ben. “Come on. This—” he says waving a hand around and scoffing, “— _this_ is what you want - living in this shithole when you used to live like a king.”

“That wasn’t a life, that was a fucked-up fantasy. We all lived a lie. It meant nothing.”

“We _were_ something. We owned this city. Until you fucked us over and ran.”

“So why are you coming to me now? If I ruined everything, why would you still want anything to do with me?”

“Because I’ve come across a new opportunity that could expand our business overseas, but I need someone with experience to handle the job. I know you, Ren, the real you, not this façade you’re trying to maintain now. I’ve seen what your capable of and, more importantly, I know what you’ve done. As much as you want to, you can’t escape your past.”

Ben already knows this, living with the memories every day, but hearing it come from Hux makes it that much worse.

“Get out,” he says slowly and through gritted teeth, “before you regret it.”

Hux walks up to him, leveling his eyes with a cold stare. When Ben’s eye twitches, Hux sneers and shoves the apple core into Ben’s hand.

“I’ll be in touch, Ren.”

The door slams behind him and Ben immediately throws the apple into the garbage as feelings of disgust and shame wash over him.

A silent moment passes before he hears the bedroom door creak open.

“Ben?” Her voice is so soft that it breaks his heart.

She’s dressed now in jeans and an oversized red sweater. Her arms are wrapped around her waist like she’s hugging herself.

The thin walls surely hadn’t hidden much from her.

He falls onto a kitchen stool and presses his face into his palms.

The last few months he’d almost been able to forget everything, or least bury it down where it didn’t bother him on a daily basis.

Now it was like a dam opening, all the secrets and the pain that he’d been able to hold back unleashed in one fell swoop.

He isn’t ready for it.

“Ben?” She’s kneeling in front of now. His hands fall from his face and hers latch onto them with a fierce grip. Her eyes, dark with worry, search his, but he looks away. “Tell me what’s wrong. What can I do?”

His head starts to pound with a familiar sense of foreboding. As his chest tightens, he realizes he’s about five minutes away from spiraling into well-trodden territory.

It’s all too much.

“I—” He stands and pulls away from her grasp.

“Ben, who was that?”

“I need some air.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No,” he says sharply. “I’ll be back later. I just—”

“Ben—”

But he’s already grabbed his coat and is out the door before she can finish her sentence.

The previous day’s snowfall has melted into dirty slush lining the sidewalks and streets and it soaks through his shoes as he stalks off.

Heading in what he hopes is the opposite direction that Hux had taken, he walks along the bustling sidewalk, oblivious to the cold and activity surrounding him.

It’s several blocks before he realizes he’s heading to the park—his place of refuge from the storms that rage in his brain.

He winds around the empty inner paths until he reaches a central spot where there is an overlook onto a small pond.

He sits on a cold metal bench and stares ahead. The snow in this part of the park is still pristine, setting a scene worthy of a postcard. His only company are the geese in the water are braving the cold and the pigeons on the path searching for crumbs leftover from previous occupants.

It’s quiet but he doesn’t feel peace.

He doesn’t know how long he’s lost in his head before the sound of footsteps behind him jolts him back to reality.

He turns his head with a jerk and sees Rey, red-nosed and out of breath, jogging up to him.

She sits on the other end of the bench leaving a space between them.

“Rey—”

“You want to be alone. I know, I know,” she says. “But at least just let me sit here with you. I won’t even say anything. Promise.”

“You’re not even wearing a coat.”

She pulls her arms into her sweater and bites her lip. “Yeah, I forgot it when I ran out. I’m fine though.”

“Rey—”

“Really. I’m fine.”

Sighing, he shrugs off his coat and places it around her shoulders.

“Thanks,” she says meekly. “I just – whatever that was back there, I don’t care, I mean I only care about you. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, I just want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all.”

He folds his hands in his lap and stares ahead again, letting a silence settle fall between them.

“I want to tell you about my past, Rey,” he says at last. “I do. You deserve to know. But…I’m afraid.”

He turns to her. Her expression is compassionate as her eyes run over him. As he often does, he feels naked under her gaze.

“I’m afraid of what you’ll think of me,” he adds.

She leans over to place a cold hand on his. “I see the man you are now. That’s all that matters.”

He swallows and wishes that were true. “I’ve always told myself to let the past die, but it’s not that simple.”

He’s silent again as the memories of his past threaten to stir again.

He only realizes he’s shivering when Rey clicks her tongue. “You must be freezing and it’s my fault. How about we get that breakfast now and warm up?”

He nods, but as they are walking back down the path, a realization stops him. “Wait, what time is it? You must be late for work.”

She gives a small smile. “I’m taking a personal day. I called in before I left to follow you.”

He opens his mouth to protest but she cuts him off. “I haven’t used one vacation day since I started and frankly I’m overdue. Now come on, I won’t hear any more of it - I’m cold and hungry.”

They stop at the first diner they come across. Ben’s appetite is gone but knowing Rey will be concerned if he doesn’t eat something, he orders toast with his coffee, while she orders the biggest breakfast on the menu.

When the waitress leaves, he wraps his hands around the mug of coffee to warm them and musters up what courage he can to begin telling his story.

“From what you can probably gathered, I’ve done a lot of shitty things in my life.” He looks up at her. She matches his steady gaze and he takes that as a sign to continue.

“That man in that showed up today - his name is Hux. He’s a drug dealer, as I was a few years ago, and we used to work in the same circles.” He pauses and studies her, gauging for a reaction.

She knits her brows together, but only in concentration. “I see.” Her voice is gentle. She waits for him to continue.

He clears his throat. “I, um, got mixed up with the wrong people when I was living with my uncle.”

“Your _uncle_?” she cuts in. This detail had sparked more of a reaction than the mention of drugs. “Sorry, it’s just that that’s the first time you’ve ever mentioned your family.”

He takes a sip of his coffee. “I know what you’re probably thinking – Oh, he must have had a sad, tragic childhood with terrible parents - but that’s not true. I had supportive parents, a loving home, food, clothing, shelter - I had everything. The problem was that I always had this rebellious streak, like I wasn’t ever satisfied with my life. Looking back, I regret so much, but what I most regret is not appreciating what I had at a young age. I had a privileged life but I was too foolish to understand that at the time. I thought my parents were holding me back from reaching my true potential – whatever that was.

“My parents both had strong personalities and I was a teenage hothead so we clashed a lot, but it was especially bad with my dad. He was more vocal in his…disappointment in me and the direction I was going. Eventually the fights got so bad that my mom sent me off to live with my uncle. I was seventeen and completely lost.

“It worked out okay for awhile. Luke and I managed to get along, though I always felt a distance between us. Looking back, I think he was just worried about me, like he could sense I was about to self-destruct and I don’t think he knew how to help me.”

The waitress brings their food and refills their coffees. Rey, immediately digs in while Ben takes a half-hearted bite of toast, swallowing with a grimace as the dryness of it scratches his throat. After a few bites, he pushes the plate away and continues with his story.

“So anyways, I switched schools and managed to graduate,  _barely,_ and then that summer I started hanging out with a tough crowd that hung around Luke’s place. I didn’t even really like these people but I was stupid and wanting to be rebellious and this gang was just _there_. Luke tried to intervene, but I was too far gone at that point so I left.

“After a lot of infighting, the gang broke off into various groups. I started going by the name Kylo and our group became the Knights of Ren, which sounds ridiculous now. We dealt pot, stolen goods, it was pretty harmless considering what followed. That lasted a couple of years before I eventually hooked up with this gang, the First Order. They were into heavier stuff: cocaine, heroin, assault weapons. It was shock at first, but I just felt that urge to be a part of something so I fell into line. Hux, the guy in the apartment, was the underling to their leader, Snoke. Hux always hated me because I sort of became Snoke’s second in command after he took a liking to me early on. It was a dysfunctional group but we made a lot of money, to the point where we were living in a penthouse on the Upper East Side.

“For years, my parents tried to find me and occasionally made contact, but I just mostly ignored them. One day I ran into my dad by chance on the street. He tried to get me to come home. I refused. Then my mom called that night and told me he’d had a heart attack and died before they made it to the hospital.”

He sucks in a shallow breath and crumples a napkin in his fist. Rey pushes away her empty plate and reaches across the table, resting one hand on his and squeezing his arm with her other.

“I killed him Rey, I know it.”

They sit still for a moment, Rey silently reassuring him as he fights back tears, until the waitress comes to collect their empty plates.

“Your mom…” Rey says, hesitating to finish the thought.

He nods. “She’s fine. Lives in a house on the coast up in Maine.”

“Have you seen her recently?”

“It’s been years.”

“Do you want to?”

“I don’t know,” he sucks in a breath and realizes he needs to explain further. “After a few years with the First Order, I built up a bit of an ego and got a mind to take it over. One night I confronted Snoke and we got into an argument. There was a struggle. It’s a blur now, but when I came to I was holding a gun and Snoke was lying dead on the ground. In my panic, I threw the gun into the Hudson and ran off, away from all of it. There was nobody around, nothing to trace me to it, but since I fled I knew that Hux would piece things together. He despised Snoke and was left with all the power so I doubt he was unhappy about the way it turned out, but I knew he could always hold it against me if he wanted to.

“I went to see my mom after that, though I probably shouldn’t have. Since finding out about my dad, I’d started drinking heavily. During the whole time I was dealing drugs, I never used anything. My mom’s voice was always in the back of my mind every time I felt tempted. I just couldn’t disappoint her like that. I couldn’t bear the thought of her hearing about me OD-ing and having to identify my body. But I needed something to dull my senses, so I turned to alcohol to drown myself with. It could still kill me, and it almost did, but it seemed like the lesser of two evils at the time.

“I showed up at her house looking like shit and scared her half to death. Seeing her reaction, all the pain that I’d caused, ended up being way too much for me to handle so I ran off soon after, back to the city. I got a few odd jobs and started considering college for the first time. I had always been an avid writer and it was really the only career I’d ever seen for myself, so I finally worked up the nerve to apply to my dream school, NYU.”

Rey lets out a sharp gasp of surprise. “Oh.”

“Yeah…it didn’t go well. I showed up to a meeting with an advisor completely wasted and ended up getting thrown out of the building by security.”

“I’m sorry, Ben.”

He shrugs. “It was my fault. I ended up getting into Brooklyn College which was fine. After my outburst, I still thought maybe I could still go back to NYU for grad school one day, but that was probably just wishful thinking.”

The waitress brings the check and Ben pays her with a generous tip. The diner’s crowd has thinned out so they remain seated in their booth as they finish the last of their coffee.

“I really enjoyed college but it came at the most self-destructive time in my life. I was drinking so much then that I was constantly dropping classes, sometimes even entire semesters. I eventually ended up in rehab after someone found me blacked out on campus. I stayed sober long enough to graduate and do a bit of freelance writing but once I didn’t have school anymore I felt like I didn’t have a purpose either so I started drinking again. I went back to rehab and found a good mentor and sponsor and this time something clicked. I wanted to get better. I wanted to have a life where I wasn’t afraid. I wanted my mom to look at me and not be disappointed.”

“You’ve made so much progress.”

“Yes. I have,” he acknowledges, “but there’s always been that nagging fear in the back of my mind and seeing Hux today just brought it all back.”

“Screw him,” Rey says with such fierce determination that Ben can’t help but smile. “I mean it. He doesn’t get to blackmail you like this.”

“You want to fight him for me?” Ben asks, amused.

“Can I?” Her eyes sparkle with an eager mischievousness.

He laughs and feels his cheeks warm. _What did he do to deserve her?_

As they leave the diner, Rey hands Ben his coat back but he gestures for her to keep it. She grabs his hand and they take their time walking back to the apartment.

He half-expects to see Hux again, but there’s no one waiting for them.

Though it’s not even noon, Ben collapses onto the couch with an exhausted sigh. Rey grabs a blanket and snuggles up next to him.

“Thanks for telling me, Ben. I know it wasn’t easy. I don’t judge you for any of it, you know.”

“Thanks, for listening,” he says quietly, resting his head against hers.

“What do you think Hux is going to do?” she asks.

“I don’t know. It’s been years since everything happened, I don’t know if he could prove anything. I mean _I_ don’t even know what happened that night. He said he wanted me for a job but I think maybe he needs cash and was hoping he could scare some out of me.”

They watch Netflix the rest of the day, leaving the couch only when necessary. Rey’s queue consists mainly of comedies and science fiction which provides a nice distraction, though Ben finds his mind drifting whenever there’s a lull in the action.

At some point in the afternoon, Rey goes back to her apartment to change into pajamas and returns with a pile of junk food.

When the sky starts to turn dark, Ben feels his already-aching head start to throb.

Rey catches him wince in pain. “Is it a migraine?”

He closes his eyes and nods. “Probably triggered by the stress from today.” He moves his feet off the coffee table and onto the floor and rubs his temples. “You know I only started getting them when I became sober - traded one problem for another.”

Rey rests a hand on his forehead. “Oh Ben, I’m sorry. What can I do?”

“I think I’m just going to go lie in the dark. There’s nothing really to do but let it pass.”

Rey brings him a glass of water and a cool, damp washcloth and shuts the bedroom door behind her.

He lies awake for half the night attempting to practice the mediation techniques that his therapist taught him. If it makes any impact he’s not certain, but the migraine ends up subsiding before it reaches the critical stage so he considers it a success.

Waking the next morning feeling less groggy than expected, he’s surprised to see Rey curled up under the blanket on the couch.

At the sound of his footsteps, she wakes with a start, worry evident in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

He nods. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought. You stayed over?”

She runs a hand through her matted hair. “I wanted to be close if you needed anything.” Craning her neck, she checks the time on the DVD player. “If you’re okay I’m going to run home to shower and change.”

“I’m fine.” She hesitates and he laughs under his breath. “Really, I promise. Now go.”

Before leaving she sweeps through the apartment picking up her scattered clothes that have accumulated over the past week so that she can do laundry later. When she kisses him goodbye, he presses his forehead against hers as they linger close and says the words he’s been feeling for weeks.

“I love you, Rey.”

She pulls back, her mouth parted in obvious surprise.

“I just wanted you to know. You mean…everything to me.”

Blinking, she looks down at the clothes in her arms and he thinks she’s about to turn to leave when she looks up at him again, tears brimming in her eyes.

“I love you too. More than anything. Like I just _belong._ ”

He thinks his heart might burst.

 

 

 

 

Rey texts him throughout the day, mostly inane things her coworkers say or weird news stories she finds, but Ben knows it’s her way of checking in without wanting to be too obvious. He spends the day working on his newest project, a _Popular Science_ article about the use of robots in medical procedures, and calling his editor about to discuss ideas for possible future projects.

Rey brings home a pizza for dinner and as they eat the conversation leads back to the previous day’s revelations.

“I know you haven’t seen her in years but have you tried calling your mom since then?” she asks. Her back is turned towards him as she fills her glass at the sink. He knows she’s probably been dying to ask about his family since they met and now that her curiosity has been piqued her mind must be overflowing with questions.

“Yeah, probably about a year and a half ago. She wanted to know where to find Luke. The last time he moved he didn’t tell anyone where he was going. I had no idea and that was about the entire conversation.”

Rey sits across from him at the table. “I think you should call her. Just, you know, to let her know you’re okay, that you’re doing well. I mean the holidays are coming up, I’m sure she’s thinking of you and missing you.”

“I-I know,” he says, swallowing. “But I just don’t think I’m ready yet.”

He wonders if Rey holds this against him. Unlike her, he has a family, flesh and blood just a phone call or short car ride away, and yet he chooses not to speak to them.

But Rey’s face only reveals a look of understanding, not a trace of anger or jealousy to be found. “Okay,” she says. “Well, when you’re ready then.”

 

 

 

 

The next few weeks fall back into a comfortable routine. During the cold nights spent alternating between their apartments, they reminisce about their childhoods. Ben tells Rey of his Decembers spent celebrating both Hanukkah and Christmas and being the only child of a powerful female state senator and mechanic father. Rey shares stories about her various foster families—one with a British mother whose accent she’d picked up at a young age, another with an abusive father who she’d tried to run away from twice before she was moved to a new family—and also tales from her adventuring, like the road trip she’d taken to see Finn after graduating high school.

The conversations prove to be as cathartic as they are about sharing memories. They realize that they’ve both felt lonely most of their lives – Ben, due to his busy, emotionally unavailable parents, and Rey, because of the lack of any constancy in her life – and have pent up anger from years of repressing their feelings.

He’s almost able to forget about .

He’s almost able to forget about his run-in with Hux, until the man himself reappears.

 

 

 

 

It’s mid-December and New York is thrumming with activity and anticipation. Ben, riding a high after a meeting at Conde Nast, decides spontaneously to surprise Rey with a homemade feast to celebrate.

As he’s fumbling to retrieve his key from his pocket with his arms full of grocery bags, a stoop-shouldered Hux steps from around the side of the building and into his path.

Cursing, Ben nearly drops the groceries, but after the initial shock he’s not really that surprised to see him again. He’s just thankful it’s happened when Rey is at work.

He stares at Hux, who looks even more frail now that if Ben shoved him he isn’t sure Hux would be able to rise on his own power. Though the thought is tempting, Ben, instead, jerks a head towards the door signaling Hux to follow him. This earns him a look of disbelief from Hux, but the man follows him inside nonetheless.

Ben sets the bags on the counter and immediately starts rifling through various drawers. He finds his desired object, a small white card, under a stack of old receipts in a side table drawer and hands it to Hux, who’s still hovering by the door looking at him suspiciously.

“What’s this?” Hux asks, holding out the card in front of him as though it offends him. “The Serenity Center for Hope and Rehabilitation?”

“They helped me get my life back on track. They can help you - if you want it,” Ben says.

Hux scoffs and drops his arm. “Rehab? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Look, I don’t like you. Frankly, I don’t give a shit what you do with the rest of your life, but for your own sake, if you don’t change things now you’re not going to be around much longer to decide one way or the other.”

Hux stares at him open-mouthed before he shoves the card into his pocket. Shifting from one foot to the other, he looks visibly uncomfortable, like he regrets ever returning.

Ben folds his arms. “So why are you here again? Because I have better things to do than stand here talking to you.”

Hux looks like he’s about to make some snippy comeback but he stops himself and grinds his teeth. The once fiery gang leader now just looked like a defeated man. Whatever fight he’d once had had been diminished from years of addiction. His heart just wasn’t in it anymore.

“Fuck you, Ren,” he spits out. If he’d been stronger, he might have come after Ben. Instead Hux just stalks out the door, slamming it loudly behind him.

 

 

 

 

A few days later, Ben gets a phone call from the police. A body has been found with his name and address scribbled on a slip of paper stuffed in the pocket and he is asked to come to the morgue to identify it.

There’s only one name he instantly thinks of and when the sheet is pulled away from the face, his suspicions are confirmed. The officer next to him is rattling off the details. _Found in an alley with a syringe next to it. Suspected overdose._ He nods at the officer and stares through the window at his former acquaintance lying on the metal table, “His name is Armitage Hux.”

He is led to a small office and gives a statement about when he last saw Hux and their chat about rehab. The policeman must have had access to his police record and list of misdemeanors, but just as he starts to worry about further questioning into his own history, the officer closes the case file and dismisses him with a nod, thanking him for his time.

Walking home, Ben knows he should be relieved that this particular nightmare is over, but as a few flakes of snow start to fall, he only feels a sense of melancholy.

Rey holds him when he gets home even though he insists he’s fine.

As he wraps his arms around her, he breathes a prayer of thanks that she had been spared from any interaction with the man.

The next morning, he wakes with a sense of clarity before his eyes are even fully open. Instinctively, he reaches an arm over to the other side of the bed but it lands with a soft bounce against the mattress.

The sound of a drawer being shut leads him to the kitchen where Rey is standing over the stove scrambling eggs. She’s already dressed for work, but is still wearing her fuzzy slippers and an oversized cardigan. She greets him with a smile. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

He pours himself a mug of coffee and leans against the counter. “Rey, I think I’m ready.”

She gives a questioning look with the spatula poised in mid-air. “What do you mean?”

“I’m ready to call my mother.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! Your kudos and kind words fuel me as I work through writer's block and self-doubt. 
> 
> I've made a playlist for this fic which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/enxjy2dkcrerg6w2zftp5g0lk/playlist/735Z5tTSUv35Y4V35nSv4a?si=3n8gASJeTdCHSrM2BMFgFA).

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! I'm new to this fandom and recently obsessed with these two.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @ [cosmicforces](https://cosmicforces.tumblr.com/). Please feel free to chat - I need more Reylo friends!!
> 
> ETA: Moodboard for this story [here](https://cosmicforces.tumblr.com/post/169867015210/gold-and-honey-swinging-open-the-door-hes).


End file.
